


Time of Your Life-Last Chapter

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Fiction, Mpreg, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-23
Updated: 2004-11-23
Packaged: 2018-11-20 21:53:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11343846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Marriage, a baby, and the future.?





	Time of Your Life-Last Chapter

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Time of Your Life-Last Chapter

### Time of Your Life-Last Chapter

#### by Emerald Starburst

  


Title: Time of Your Life  
Author: Emerald Starburst  
E-mail:   
Website: emeraldsnotepad.com/index.php  
Fandoms: Law & Order/X-Files  
Archive: X-Files Fuq-Q-Fest Archive, emeraldsnotepad.com/index.php, WWOMB Rating: NC-17.  
Feedback: Please! Onlist or private e-mail. Categories: Alternate Universe. Mpreg. Crossover-Law & Order/X-Files. Summary: Oops! Someone is pregnant. Whatever shall they do? Pairing: Fox Mulder/Mike Logan  
Warnings: M/M. Mpreg. Mention of past child abuse. Mention of Het. Disclaimer: The Usual. I don't own them. Wish I did. Just borrowing them for awhile to play. Not making any money here. Honest. Authors Notes: Originally written for the X-Files Fuh-Q-Fest #1 In this Alternate Universe, male pregnancy is possible though very rare. #2 Inspired by authors like nikita and rose campion. #3 Special thanks to nikita for being a wonderful beta and suggesting an X-Files spin to the mpreg.  
Challenges: #1 Crossover with another show. #2 Mulder must at one point say, "You are naked and you are not in your right mind." #3 Write an MPREG into the story.   
Additional Notes: // indicates thoughts. XXX indicates flashbacks. 

* * *

Twenty-third week  
4848 Florin Drive

"Who wants more pizza?" asked Mulder. 

"I think everyone is fine, Mulder," said Scully. Skinner, Doggett, Reyes, and Mike all nodded their agreement. They sat on the living room floor with the pizza box and assorted beverages arranged on the coffee table. 

"Love your decor," Doggett quipped. "Early minimalist?" 

"Hey," said Mulder. "We have the bedroom furniture. We have the kitchen furniture. The rest is coming next week." 

"Didn't you guys have any furniture?" asked Reyes. 

"Well, all of mine just about filled the den. And Mike's..." Mulder coughed uncomfortably. 

"It was crap," Mike supplied. "Even St. Vincent dePaul didn't want it. We threw everything out but my books and my CD collection." 

"Love the small talk," said Skinner, "but shall we get down to brass tacks?" 

Mulder filled everyone in on what had been happening. Scully and Skinner knew most of it, but he started at the beginning to get everyone up to speed at the same time. 

"What's your plan?" asked Reyes, snagging the last piece of pepperoni pizza. His answer almost made her choke. 

"We contact the bounty hunters." 

They just stared at him. "Are you out of your mind!" said Doggett, speaking all their thoughts out loud. "We finally have a little advantage over these damned aliens, and you want to blow it?" 

"I know, and you have a point. But what good is an advantage if we don't use it? And the bounty hunters aren't really the enemy. They're just mercenaries that got caught here when the colonists left. 

"My plan is that we let them know we're on to them. We know what they are. We know how to take them out. And we're not really getting any useful information from the site. They don't know anything, and what we've downloaded so far proves it." Mulder handed out printouts of what he had discovered on the website so far. 

"Tax shelters," said Scully. 

"Investments," said Doggett. 

"Unemployment insurance," said Skinner. 

"Well, here's something interesting," said Reyes. "A general warning that Mulder and Scully are in New York and that Mulder's...um...Mike is off limits." 

Mike groaned. "It's okay, you can say it. His `wife' is off limits. Stupid law," he muttered under his breath. 

"I don't know. I like `Mulder's Mike'," Mulder teased. 

Mike kicked him gently under the table. "Don't be premature. We're not married yet." 

"If we can get back to business," said Skinner pointedly. 

The couple exchanged looks and tried unsuccessfully to hide their grins. The meeting continued. By nine that evening, they had to concede that Mulder's plan was the best course of action. Mike was exhausted. Too exhausted to object when Mulder and Doggett offered their assistant to help him off the floor. 

"Thanks." 

"No problem," Doggett assured him. He was grinning widely at Mulder. 

"What?" asked Mulder. 

"Leave it to you to get a guy knocked up." Mike was too tired to fight, so he stared daggers at Doggett and went to bed. 

"Sorry," he called after Mike, "but you have to admit it's funny." Upstairs, Mike slammed the bedroom door. 

"Doggett," said Mulder in warning. 

"I'm sorry," he repeated, to Mulder and the three others who were frowning at him. "I didn't meant to upset him." He grinned again. "Actually, what surprises me is that `Mulder' isn't the one who's pregnant." 

"Right," scoffed Mulder. "Right after `you' get knocked up." 

Both men had a good laugh over that, until Scully spoke up. 

"Guys. A year ago, what would your reaction have been if somebody had told you `Mike' could get pregnant?" 

The men sobered instantly. 

Twenty-fourth Week  
Midtown Caf 

Mulder sipped his coffee slowly. In a few minutes the bounty hunter he'd contacted through the website was coming. Both parties had felt that a public forum would be safest for all concerned. He smiled that a bounty hunter was actually nervous about seeing `him.' 

//How things change,// he thought to himself. 

"Hello." Mulder turned to see a tall, blonde woman in her mid-thirties. "I think you're waiting for me." 

"You?" She turned her head subtly so that no one else could see. For a few seconds her face shimmered, and the familiar face of a bounty hunter appeared. "Damn. Good disguise." 

"Yes," she agreed, seating herself beside him. "It is an excellent cover. You may ask my name." 

"You have a name?" 

"Not my real name, of course. Let me introduce myself." She held out her hand. "Serena Southerlyn, assistant to the EADA of Manhattan." After a brief hesitation, he shook her hand. "This is a gesture of good faith. Since you now live here, it is possible we'll need to work together. Serena Southerlyn is too good a cover to give up without good reason. Especially now." 

"Yeah, your bosses left you swinging in the breeze." 

"Unfortunately, that is an accurate assessment. I intend to receive full compensation for that at the appropriate time. But that is another matter. Your concern is the disposition of DS in the same position as your bride to be." 

Murder winced. "He wouldn't appreciate being referred to as a bride." 

"It's a matter of law, but I'll keep that in mind for the future. For the record, I was against my brother's idea. It was a foolish risk for too little gain. But he wanted to stay in the colonists' good graces by attempting to advance their work." 

"Crap. You mean DS `was' a result of the colonists' experiments." 

"Indeed, but he was the only one of us to support the plan to harvest DS fetuses. It will not be attempted again. There are not enough us to risk this plan again." 

"Then there are more of you here?" 

"Don't push, Agent Murder. You know my identity and where I am. Accept the gift gracefully." 

"How do you know you can trust me not to plug you the next time you turn your back? I might just decide to avenge the death of the woman you decided to replace." 

"That would be futile on more than one level. First, I'm a possible resource. It is barely within the realm of possibility that we may be useful to each other. 

"Second, we killed no one." Mulder lifted an eyebrow in disbelief. "In this case," she amended. "The real Serena Southerly was killed in a horseback riding accident when she was fifteen. Her parents were Consortium members, and the Consortium decided to take advantage of the situation to plant a sleeper." She looked amused. "Serena's brothers never knew about the substitution, and I think the Southerlyns themselves have almost forgotten that I'm not their daughter. It has been an interesting experience." 

"I'll bet. So, what do we do now?" 

"We agree to a truce. Until the colonists return, we leave each other in peace. Agreed?" 

"Agreed. As long as you don't go around killing people," he countered. Reluctantly, she nodded and they shook hands. "This almost seems too civilized," he remarked. 

"We are civilized, Agent Mulder. Our people have nothing against yours. It's just...business." She shouldered her purse and walked away. 

"Goodbye, John Gotti," said Murder to himself. 

That Evening  
"Jack McCoy's assistant is an alien?" said Mike for the third time. 

"Yes, Mike, she is," Mulder replied yet again. 

"Damn, little Mary Milquetoast is an alien." He chuckled. "Well, that explains some things!" 

Twenty-Fifth Week  
Staten Island Police Station 

Mike was typing out yet another report and sipping his decaf coffee. He was trying to convince himself he couldn't tell the difference between decaf and the real thing when he heard a familiar voice. 

"Mike!" 

Mike looked up and saw a face from the past. "Phil!" he said happily. "How have you been, Big Daddy!" 

Phil Cerreta ignored the outstretched hand and held out a cream envelope with engraved printing. "What the hell is this?" 

Mike squashed his disappointment and looked at the envelope. "Well, it's a wedding invitation, Phil. I was hoping you and Elaine could come to my wedding." 

"Wedding! It's bad enough you let this creep knock you up. Now you have to marry him!" 

The usual hum that usually characterized the station died away. Mike could feel the eyes of his colleagues boring through their backs. "Phil, could we have this discussion somewhere else?" 

But Phil was on a roll. "Mike, for God's sake! I've done some digging on this mook. You're not just going to marry a man. You're going to marry a man who thinks he was abducted by aliens from outer space!" 

//Damn. Damn. Damn. We were hoping to get through the wedding before that came out!// "I think you'd better leave, Phil." 

"I haven't finished." 

"I think you've said more than enough!" Unknown to Mike, his blood pressure was creeping steadily upward. "I've been trying to call you for months! I looked up to you, Phil. I call you Big Daddy because you remind me of my Dad, somebody I respected. I thought you would be there for me. Instead, all you can do is run down the man I love!" Mike felt a cramp low in his abdomen. "Where the hell were you when I needed you? You've got no right..." 

The cramping was slightly worse, and Mike put a hand to his belly. 

"Mike,...!" 

"Shut up! I called you. I left messages. I talked to Elaine, and I could tell on the phone she was embarrassed to be lying for you. You don't want anything to do with me anymore, fine! But don't you dare start blaming Fox for loving me! He's the only person who's ever loved me for who I am!" Mike felt more cramping and moaned. "I gotta go to the john." He left Phil standing with his mouth open. He heard Van Buren yelling, "What the hell is going on out here!" He ignored it and continued to the restroom. 

Behind him, the captain was confronting the dazed detective. "Well, who the hell are you, and what did you do to my detective?" 

Phil shook himself. "Phil Cerreta, from the 110. I'm an old friend of Mike's." 

"Friend? That yelling didn't sound very friendly. My office, Detective Cerreta." 

Phil numbly followed the captain to her office. Once the door was shut, she lit into him. 

"I don't know what's going on between you two, and I don't care. You don't have a yelling match in the middle of my squad room, and you don't yell at Mike, period. He's been through enough the last few months. In case you haven't been keeping up, Mike's pregnancy has not been easy." 

Phil was shocked. "Mike`s been having problems? I didn't know." 

Van Buren rolled her eyes. "Why am I not surprised?" 

Phil persisted. "What problems? Please?" 

She hesitated for a second. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and take your word that you are a friend. Mike didn't know he was pregnant until almost halfway through the pregnancy, so he didn't get prenatal care when he should have. His blood pressure has been high. He's been anemic. He tires easily. And he's been having trouble gaining as much weight as he should. Mike and the baby should be fine, but he needs to avoid stress as much as possible." 

"And I come in and start yelling at him," Phil moaned. "I was just so mad at him for lying to me!" 

Van Buren started to demand clarification, when she heard someone yell, "Help me. Somebody help me!" 

They hurried back to the squad room. Mike was standing in the doorway of the men's room, supporting himself on the doorframe. He was pale and panicked. "I'm bleeding." 

St. Mary's Hospital 

Mulder ran through the hospital corridors. //I'm really getting tired of this. Please, if there's a benevolent deity out there, enough already. // 

He approached the examination room and saw Lt. Van Buren standing outside the door with a man he didn't recognize. 

"Mulder," said Van Buren, "the doctor is in with Mike now. She said to wait out here." 

"What happened? He was okay when I dropped him off this morning!" 

"I'm afraid that's my fault," said the strange man. He held his hand out to Mulder. "Phil Cerreta." 

Mulder grasped the hand and pumped it automatically. "Mike's old partner? He's talked about you. I'm glad you finally connected." Then it dawned on Mulder what Cerreta had actually said. "What do you mean it's your fault?" 

Van Buren looked at Cerreta pointedly. "Well, I kind of yelled at him." 

Mulder blinked and stared. "You yelled at him? You yelled at him! In God's name, why!" 

"I'd like to know that myself," said Van Buren. 

Cerreta looked very uncomfortable. Mulder and Van Buren were not sympathetic. "Look, I don't think this is really the time." 

"Until the doctor comes back out, this is the time!" said Mulder. "Spill!" 

Cerreta sighed. "I was just so angry! I didn't think. I wasn't Mike's partner for all that long, but I thought we'd gotten close. Mike was like a son to me. He told me that he thought of me as a second Dad. I don't understand why he couldn't tell me he was gay." 

Mulder had been furious, but as Cerreta talked he started to calm down. "Cerreta, you and Mike need to talk. You've jumped to a pretty big conclusion." 

Just then the door opened. "Mulder?" said Dr. Temple. "You can come in now." 

Mulder rushed in and was relieved to see Mike sitting up in bed looking none the worst for wear. Mulder gathered him in his arms. "God. Mike, are you alright?" 

"No. I'm going to die of embarrassment." 

"Huh? Van Buren told me you were bleeding." Mike mumbled something. "What?" 

"It was hemorrhoids," supplied Dr. Temple. 

Mulder sagged and dropped into a bedside chair. He started to laugh. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "It's just that I was so scared...Sorry. I'm just so glad it's nothing serious." 

"Actually, it is," said Dr. Temple. "The bleeding from the hemorrhoids, while alarming, isn't harmful. However, during the examination, we found that Mike's blood pressure was elevated again. Also, his urine is positive for protein, and there's some edema in his ankles and face. It's what we were afraid of, gentlemen. Mike has preeclampsia." 

"Fuck!" said Mike. "Now what?" 

"Fortunately, it's mild. But there's only one effective treatment." 

"Not bed rest!" Mike groaned. 

"Bed rest," Dr. Temple confirmed. "Strict for at least one week. Longer if we don't see some improvement." 

"What about our wedding?" 

"Mike," said Mulder, "we can postpone the wedding until after the baby is born." 

"No we can't," Mike insisted. "Our son isn't going to be a bastard if we can help it." 

"When is the wedding?" asked Dr. Temple. 

"June twenty-first," said Mulder. 

"In two weeks? I don't know..." 

They waited anxiously while the doctor considered. "Okay. I'll give consent `provisionally'. If Mike doesn't do any planning. If ceremony is short. And if Mike stays off his feet as long as possible before and after the ceremony. Is that clear?" 

"Clear," the two men chorused. 

Dr. Temple left to let them talk. "Damn it, Fox, how are we supposed to get a wedding together in two weeks when I can't do any planning?" 

"I have an idea," said Mulder. "First, I think you need to talk to somebody who's waiting out in the hall." Mulder went to the door. He gestured to someone, and Phil Cerreta walked in. 

"Hi, Mikey." 

"I'll leave you two alone." Mulder walked out and joined Van Buren in the hall. 

"Mike's fine," he assured her. "But he won't be going back to work for the duration." 

"Logan stuck at home for the next three months? I don't envy you that." She looked at the closed door worriedly. "Are you sure leaving them together is such a good idea?" 

"They'll be fine. Mike just has to explain he couldn't tell his best friend something he hadn't admitted to himself." 

"How about the wedding?" 

"It'll be taken care of." 

"Fox!" It was Mike, yelling at the top of his lungs. "Fox!" 

Mulder nearly ran over Van Buren getting back into the room. "Mike, what's wrong?" Mike had the most peculiar expression on his face. "Mike?" 

Mike took Mulder's hand and placed it on the lower part of his abdomen. 

Thump! 

"My God," Mulder breathed. To his wonder, he felt it twice more. Mike looked into his eyes, his own bright with unshed tears. 

"He moved," Mike said unnecessarily. "Not a little flutter. Not a bubble that could be gas. He fucking `moved'. He's real." 

Mulder felt himself smiling like a fool, but he couldn't help it. "Yeah, he is." 

"I think I'll let you two alone," said Cerreta and started to leave. 

"No," said Mike. "Fox, do you still want me to pick his name?" 

Mulder, not quite following, said, "Of course. You're the one having this baby." 

"In that case...Phil, I was always going to call my first kid Max. If it was a son, of course." 

"After Max Greevy, right. He'd have liked that." 

"Yeah, well, I loved Max, but I'm not going to call any kid of mine Max Mulder. So, would it be okay if we call him Phil?" 

"Me? Mikey, are you sure?" 

"Wait a minute!" said Mulder. "I thought his last name was going to be Logan?" 

"What for? I have a younger brother, my Dad had four brothers, and I have more male cousins than I can count. The Logan name is in no danger of dying out. Not so yours, Fox." Mulder started laughing. "What?" 

"Mike, I'm doing it again, I'm sorry. It's just..." he looked over at Cerreta, thought a moment, then did a mental shrug. "One of the things I've been meaning to tell you, is that I'm not really a Mulder." 

"Excuse me if I say, `Huh?' What do you mean, you're not a Mulder?" 

"My Mom had an extramarital affair. I'm a bastard." 

"Crap!" said Mike. "Oh, what the hell! Let's make him a...Fox, what is your father's name?" 

"Good question. We've met, and he was married under the name Spender, but I have no reason to believe it's his real one." 

"Christ," said Cerreta, "what the hell kind of family do you come from?" 

"It doesn't matter," Mike insisted. "I like Mulder. And I want to name him after you, Big Daddy. Is that okay with you." 

Cerreta smiled and tried not to preen. "If you're sure, I'd be honored." 

"Philip Logan Mulder," said Mulder. "I like it." 

Twenty-seven Weeks  
June 21th, 2003  
Dusk  
4848 Florin Drive 

Mulder and Mike were kneeling on the floor in their living room. The furniture had been temporarily removed, and the guests were all seated on blankets. The couple wore their new Armani suits beneath the traditional Navajo wedding robes. 

Very carefully, Mike placed his wedding basket filled with white corn mush in a pile of sand on the floor. Next to it, Mulder placed a jewelry box containing a pearl necklace and a pair of matching earring. Carl Hosteen had been adamant about Mulder providing an appropriate dowry gift for the `bride's' family. In Navajo tradition, it would be a concho belt or silver bracelets. Or livestock. In any case, something that would be used and passed down in the bride's family. 

Carl Hosteen set a large bowl and a jug of water next to the men. Using a large ladle, Mike poured water while Mulder washed his hands. Then Mulder poured as Mike washed his own. As they did this, Hosteen said to the assembled family and friends, "The act of washing hands symbolizes washing away the past. From this point on, they will share a new life together." 

From a bag at his side, Hosteen reached in and came out with a handful of something golden and powdery. "This is corn pollen. It represents harmony and beauty. It protects us. I spread it across the corn in the basket from East to West to East, and from South to North to South." As he said this, he did so. "This honors the four sacred mountains. Now I spread it in a circle around the corn mush." 

Where Hosteen indicated, Mike and Mulder ate from the mush in the basket. Then he gestured to Mike's family. Mike had to fight tears when he saw his little sister, Bryn, her husband and daughters rise to eat from the basket. 

"You okay?" Mulder whispered. 

"Thank you for this," Mike whispered back. Mulder shrugged. It hadn't taken much effort on his part. Bryn Watford, formerly Logan, had wanted to come. It had just taken a little persuasion to convince her husband to let the rest of the family attend. It hadn't hurt to remind him that Mike had paid a hefty portion of the fee necessary to get their mentally challenged daughter into the very expensive assisted living facility where she now resided. It had explained why Mike lived in a shabby box of an apartment. Even a cop should have been able to afford something better. Mulder seethed inside when he thought about how little regard most of the Logan family paid Mike. 

When they had finished, Carl Hosteen gestured to Mulder's family and friends. Scully and Walter, of course. Little William toddled with them to take a tiny bite of the mush. When all the corn mush had been eaten, it was taken up by Maggie Scully. Mulder's eyes moistened a little. It had made him so happy Maggie agreed to stand in for his mother. 

"Fox Mulder and Michael Logan," Carl Hosteen announced, "I declare you married. Tonight, the Holy People have blessed you. Remember, there is beauty above you, and beauty below you. Remember to always walk in beauty." Later that evening  
La Trattoria Restaurant 

"I feel stupid," said Mike. 

"You shouldn't," said Mulder. 

"Everybody else is walking around or sitting in a chair, and I'm over here in a recliner." 

Mulder smiled, picked up Mike's hand, and kissed the brand new gold band that now rested on the third finger of his left hand. He thought it looked very nice next to the emerald on the finger beside it. 

"Doctor's orders." He looked around. "Besides, everybody is having too good a time to notice. 

It was true. Elaine and Phil Cerreta had paid for the reception at her restaurant as a wedding present. And standing at the door like a conductor for a grand opera stood their savior, the multi talented Maggie Scully. He excused himself from his new husband for a moment and waited for her to notice him. 

"Fox!" she scolded. "You should be over there paying attention to that new husband of yours." 

"I will. I just wanted to take the opportunity to thank you again." 

"I should be thanking you and Dana. I think you've started me on a new career. It's time I stopped being Bill Scully's widow and became a productive person again." 

"You've always been productive, Maggie." 

"Oh yes, as a convenient babysitter for my grandchildren! I love them all, but I've spent my adult life taking care of children. I want to do something for me." 

"Maggie Scully, Wedding Planner. I like it." 

"Me, too." 

"I hope you don't mind we drafted you as mother of the groom." 

Maggie held up the small, hand-woven marriage basket. "I didn't mind a bit. I'll treasure this. Just like the memory of your beautiful wedding and the fact you care enough about me to ask me to stand in for your mother." She smiled at him and then glanced over at Mike. "Once, I thought you and Dana would marry and give me more grandchildren. But Walter is a wonderful man, and so is your Mike. I hope you'll find happiness together." 

"How could we not, with your blessing?" They hugged tenderly. "Thanks, Mom." 

Meanwhile, Mike was not alone. "Well, partner, how do you rate the comfy chair?" 

Mike smiled up at an old, familiar, and very welcome face. "Lennie! Are you having a good time?" 

"Good company, great food, and a good friend is having a baby. What's not to enjoy?." Lennie patted Mike's shoulder affectionately. "How's it going?" 

"I'm going out of my mind with boredom," Mike admitted. "I can't wait to have this kid and get it over with, and at the same time I'm scared to death. Know what I mean?" 

"Yeah." Lennie shuddered. "Am I glad I'm not DS. And even if I was, I'd be too old to worry about it!" Mike caught at his hand and squeezed. "Thanks for coming. I wasn't sure you'd be okay with this whole thing." 

"Hey, we were partners. We'll always be friends. Remember that." 

Mike thought for a moment. "You know, I've talked to Fox about you." 

"Oh? I hope it was properly salacious." He managed a leer. 

"He thinks I should tell you...why I never came to see you. After that Crossley fiasco." 

"Mike, you don't have to. I wasn't very supportive, so I don't blame you for being mad at me." 

"I wasn't mad, Lennie. It's just, with all the crap hitting the fan, I was afraid I'd say something I shouldn't." 

Lennie was throughly confused. "I don't get it." 

"No, you never did, and it broke my heart. I was attracted to you, Len. If you'd responded even a little to me, I would have fallen in love with you." 

"But Mike, I'm straight." 

"As a ruler. Don't rub it in. I did everything but crawl in your lap, and you never batted an eye." 

"Aw, Mike," Lennie shifted uncomfortably, "I don't believe I didn't see it. I'm sorry." 

"I'm not. If you had noticed, we might not have been friends anymore. And I might not have met Fox, who is the best thing to ever happen to me." He squeezed Lennie's hand once more and then let it go. "We are still friends, right? I don't have so many as I can afford to lose one." 

"Of course, we are. And being such a good friend," Lennie continued, "could you tell me the name of that lady speaking to your husband?" 

Mike looked over and smiled. "That is Maggie Scully, Dana Scully's mother. She's a widow," Mike added sotto voce. He smiled as the gray-haired wolf made a beeline for the attractive woman. "Go get her, Romeo," he said aloud. 

Mulder was taking his leave of Maggie when he noticed someone walking in the door. "Oh, my God." 

Mulder ran over to the man. The stranger tried to offer his hand, but Mulder engulfed him in a hug. Everyone stopped celebrating to gawk at the spectacle of the newly married man in a clinch with another man. Mike, who had an inkling of the man's identity, smiled. 

"Everybody!" Mulder announced to the room at large. "This is my brother, Jeff Spender!" 

Mulder proceeded to pull Jeff to where Mike reclined in his chair. Now that he was closer, Mike could see the fading remnants of several large scars on his face. 

"Jeff, this is my husband, Mike." 

Mike held out his hand. They shook. "I'm glad to meet you, Jeff." 

Jeff looked self-conscious. "I wasn't sure I should come. It's not like Mulder and I have ever been close." 

"I'd like to change that, Jeff," said Mulder. "We're all family now. As I see it, we're the only good thing that cigarette smoking bastard ever did in his life." 

Jeff smiled faintly. "That's one way of looking at it. It would be nice to have a real family." 

"You've got one," Mike assured him. He patted his slightly rounded belly. "It's growing all the time." Twenty-eight Weeks  
4848 Florin Drive 

"What the hell is that?" 

"It's called a birthing ball. It's supposed to help you..." 

The front door opened. A large lavender ball was drop-kicked out onto the drive. Mulder raced out after it. "Hey, at least let me return it! That thing wasn't cheap!" 

"Epideral!" a voice shouted out the door. Thirty Weeks  
4848 Florin Drive 

"What are all these pamphlets? 

"Mike, what do you think about a water birth?" 

"I don't." The stiff paper clunked loudly in the trash can. "Read my lips. Epideral!" Thirty-Two Weeks  
4848 Florin Drive 

"Hey, Mike, one of the agents at work mentioned that his baby was delivered at a birthing center by a doula." 

"A what?" 

"Like a mid-wife." 

"I'll say it again, slowly. Hos-pi-tal. E-pi-der-al. Subject closed." 

"Mike, dammit, this is my baby, too!" 

"Well, then you can push it out your ass!" Thirty-Four Weeks  
Office of Dr. Irene Temple 

The door to the office opened and Dr. Temple's secretary poked her head in. "Doctor, Mr. Logan is on line two. He sounds a little upset." 

"Thank you, Doris. I'll take it now." Dr. Temple picked up her phone. "Hello, Mike, what's..." 

"I'm waddling!" 

"What were you doing up?" 

"I was going to the john. I told you, I'm waddling like a duck!" 

"We talked about this, Mike. Toward the end of pregnancy, a woman's body produces a hormone that loosens the ligaments in the pelvis to allow for a more comfortable birth. Because you're a man, and you have a narrower pelvis, your body has released more of those hormones to compensate." 

"You didn't say I'd waddle, dammit!" 

Actually she had, but Dr. Temple decided not to make an issue of it. "Just be sure you're careful to avoid strain on your hips and lower back. There's been no known case of this leading to a dislocated hip, but the danger is there." 

"I look ridiculous!" 

"Mike, you're not going anywhere, so it really shouldn't matter." Silence. "Mike?" she inquired in a dangerous tone. 

"I might have to." 

"Explain. Now." 

"The Staten Island ADA called this morning. One of the last cases I worked on before going on leave? The prosecution needs me as a witness. The trial is in two or three weeks." 

"Can't he postpone?" 

"He's trying, but the defense lawyer is being a hard ass. He probably thinks we're trying to hide something." 

"Give me the number of this so-called lawyer. I'll explain the situation to him." 

"You can try."  
Thirty-eight Weeks  
Staten Island Courthouse  
August 25, 2003 

The door to the courtroom opened and the bailiff appeared. "Calling Detective Michael Logan." He paused. "Calling..." 

"Hold your horses! I'm coming as fast as I can!" he snarled. Mike rose carefully to his feet and waddled slowly to the doors. 

"Sorry, I didn't realize. Do you need some assistance?" 

"No!" 

"I feel like a freak." 

"You're not a freak," said Scully. "I just don't believe that stupid prosecutor wouldn't agree to a postponement." 

"Believe it." He saw the bailiff shifting uncomfortably. "I'm coming, dammit!" He waddled slowly to the doors. 

"Um, sir," said the bailiff, "your shoes." 

"What about them?" 

"Birkenstocks?" 

"My feet are swollen, okay? It was these or running shoes. You got a problem?" There was a warning tone in Mike's voice that the man decided to heed. "No problem, sir." 

Mulder winced as he watched Mike make his way slowly into the courtroom. "This is not going to be pretty." 

"How are you holding up?" said Scully. 

"Better now that you're here. Thanks for the moral support." 

"No problem. So, it's the final stretch. Are you guys ready?" 

Mulder was saved from answering when there was a sudden exodus from the courtroom. They looked at each other in puzzlement. 

"Fox!" came an agonized cry from the courtroom. "Get your ass in here!" Mulder was out of his seat running into the room before the cry died in the air. Scully was right behind him. 

A bailiff was running out the door. He said, " Is Mr. Mul..." He didn't get any further as Mulder ran past him into the courtroom. Mike was on his knees, hands grasping the divider, knuckles white. There was a puddle of liquid between his knees. 

"I told you not to badger the witness!" the judge was shouting. 

"I didn't! He wasn't even sworn in!" The defense council shouted back. The procecutor had wisely beaten a retreat with the rest of the court. 

"Quiet!" said Scully. "I'm a doctor. Let me through." Scully knelt beside Mike and began her examination. "Did anyone call 911?" She pressed on Mike's back, and he let out a muffled scream. "How long have you been having back pain?" 

"Eight and a half months," he snapped at her. 

Scully took a deep breath. "Today, Mike." 

"I don't know. Since early this morning. Four or five am." 

Scully calculated rapidly. "That means you've been in labor for about eight hours. 911!" she again commanded to the onlookers. 

"I called them," said the bailiff. "They said it'll be about fifteen minutes." 

While he was talking, Scully and Mulder had eased Mike down onto his left side and removed Mike's sodden trousers and underwear over his vehement protests. Scully studied his peri-anal region and announced, "Well, that means they'll be here just in time to cut the cord. Baby crowning here! I need clean towels!" 

"My private bathroom!" the judge told the bailiff, who ran to obey. After what seemed like a second he ran back with both arms filled with fluffy white towels and handed them to Scully. 

As they were positioning him as comfortably as possible, his head in Mulder's lap, Mike protested, "What about my epideral?" 

"Oh love, the USS Epideral has weighed anchor and sailed. Let it go!" 

"I don't believe this is happening." Mike found himself lying on the courtroom floor wearing only his dress shirt. His belly felt as if he were being split in two, and the people around his kept telling him to push! 

"Leave me alone! Oh, God!" Wave after wave of pain rolled over him. "I feel like I'm trying to pass a bowling ball! Fox Mulder, if you ever touch me again...I'm going to cut off your balls...with a rusty...spoon!" 

"Whatever makes you feel better," said Mulder in a soothing tone. 

**"STOP HUMORING ME!"**

"You're doing fine, Mike," said Scully. "It's almost over." 

"I can't do it!" he panted weakly. 

"Yes, you can," said Mulder. He was holding Mike's hands and watching in appalled fascination as his anus expanded impossibly wide and revealed matted black hair. "Dear God, Mike, I can see his head! Push!" 

"Please, God! Please, God!" Mike felt another wave of agonizing pain and pushed with every muscle he had and some he didn't. "God!" he screamed and squeezed Mulder's hands as hard as he could. This time he felt something give inside. He felt something else and was about to say something, when he heard, "Waaaa! Waaaa! Waa! Waa! Waa!" Mike couldn't help himself. He smiled. "He sounds pissed." 

"Wouldn't you be if you'd been tossed out of a nice warm bed into the cold?" Mulder pointed out. "Christ!" 

"What's wrong!" 

"Nothing," said Scully hurriedly. "It's just a piece of the amniotic sac." Scully carefully started removing a thin, filmy membrane covering the infant's face. 

//A caul,// Mulder thought. //Our son was born with a caul.// Under the membrane was a scrunched up face surrounded by black hair. Mulder reached out a trembling finger and traced the tiny widows peak. "Mike, he looks just like you!" 

"So, when he's eighteen, we owe the kid a nose job," Mike quipped wearily. 

"I like his Mom's nose." 

"Hey, I am nobody's Mom! I'm his Dad." 

"Then what am I?" 

"Papa." 

"Papa! It'll be years before he can say Papa." 

"Not that long. He's your son." 

"True," Mulder said smugly. 

In the meantime, Scully had wiped the infant off carefully with one of the smaller towels and wrapped him in a larger one. "Mulder, I need you here." 

Mulder laid Mike's head gently on the floor and to his amazement was soon holding his son. "Scully, the cord?" 

"In a second." She started to massage Mike's belly. After a few seconds of cursing, Mike delivered the placenta, which Scully wrapped up with the baby. "The doctor at the hospital will tie it off properly there." 

"That sucked," Mike panted. 

"Big time," agreed Scully who clearly remembered her own experience. "Would you like to see him now?" 

"Are you kidding?" Mulder quickly brought the baby around and Mike got a first look at his son. "God, he does look like me! But that's your nose." 

"Really?" 

"I agree," said Scully. 

The judge and the bailiff took a look and agreed. The defense council had no opinion, since he had passed out cold as soon as he realized the birth the immanent. 

"He always was a wimp," remarked the judge. Derision was evident in her tone. 

"Scully," said Mike, "hand."  
"Hand? Is there something wrong with your hand, Mike?" Scully asked in concern. "Not mine. Fox. That last push, I felt something snap. I think I broke his hand." 

Some hours later, an X-Ray (done over his protests) revealed two broken metacarpals in Mulder's left hand. Thus, he was sporting a cast when next he saw his husband and son. 

Mulder smiled as he saw them. Little Philip was contentedly drinking a bottle while Mike drank in his son. 

"You do that like an expert," Mulder said with wonder. "For a bachelor, you're a good mom." 

Mike blew a raspberry. "I am a expert. Jeeze, Mulder, I was the oldest of five kids in an Irish Catholic family. I've been diapering and feeding babies since I was old enough to walk." He looked down at his son with wonder. "It was worth it," said Mike. "All of it. Isn't he the most beautiful thing you ever saw in your life?" 

"Bar none." 

Suddenly, Mike started laughing. This startled the baby, who began to fuss. Mike settled him quickly, but he continued to laugh. 

"What?" 

"Frankie! Phil was born two weeks early at...what time?" 

"Huh? About 1:15, I think. Why?" 

"She won the Trifecta!" Mike continued to laugh. "I hope the squad doesn't think I did it on purpose!" 

"Oh, yeah, you had Phil in the middle of the courtroom just so Frankie could win a bet. They will so believe that." Mulder smiled and shook his head in resignation. He was doomed to forever be Mike Logan's straight man. 

Somehow, he had no problem with that. 

Later, Philip was sleeping soundly in his little bassinet and Mike was sleeping the sleep of the exhausted. Mulder kissed them both lightly and was about to take his leave when he saw another visitor. 

"Hello, Krycek." Mulder tried to sound hostile, but he couldn't. He was too happy. "Come to gloat over your success?" 

"Success, Mulder?" asked the leather-clad spirit. "I don't know what you mean. I just came to offer my congratulations." 

"Yeah, right. Come on. The great plan has come to fruition. The leader that will save the future has been born. All is right with the world." He frowned when he saw Krycek shaking his head. "What?" 

"Mulder. I never said the future leader would be `this' baby." He laughed and fled back into the shadows, leaving Mulder to grapple with this revelation. 

The End  
For Now   
  

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